


Nova Burn

by yamtempura



Category: EXO (Band), Mass Effect
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7011670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamtempura/pseuds/yamtempura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sehun is on a routine mission for the council, but his plans are thrown into disarray by the arrival of a group of mercenaries.  Unfortunately, one of them seems much too perceptive for Sehun's peace of mind.  Sehun fights aliens and his own feelings in order to uncover some surprising revelations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nova Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my goodness, OP, thank you so much for giving me this prompt!! I was so excited when I read it, I just had to ask for it. Mass effect is pretty much my favourite game, so I tried to do it justice ;w; I hope it's clear where I put it in the continuity of the games, and I hope you don't mind that I used what I consider my Main Shepard. Please come talk to me afterwards and we can swap Shepard stories.
> 
> Thank you so much to my beta for the encouragement and my friends for listening to me whine! I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> WARNING: SPOILERS for Mass Effect and Mass Effect 2

Sehun felt the heat of the blast beside him before actually registering the noise. Then the shockwave hit him, knocking him back against the craggy rockface, his skull slamming into the back of his helmet so hard he saw stars.

“Fuck,” he swore, trying to shake off the ringing in his ears, when he heard Zitao’s yell crackle through his headpiece.

“ _Fuck_!” he swore, louder this time, and propped his gun back up, picking off the two creatures scrabbling up over the rocky outface. “I’m coming Zitao,” he told him through the headpiece and began hauling ass over to where he last saw him, rocks and debris falling under his boots.

This was _supposed_ to be just a routine mission…

\---

_Two weeks earlier_

“Commander Oh!”

Sehun turned at the shout, looking up from his data pad behind him to where one of the other officers was jogging up to match his speed.

“Did you just get out of a meeting with the council?” Byun Baekhyun asked, slowing down to a walk beside him.

Sehun nodded. It hadn't been the greatest of meetings, but it wasn't like he could complain any. Oh Sehun, the second human Spectre, was there to do what the great Commander Shepard hadn't done before she died – namely, follow orders and try not to get killed. It was one of the reasons they had chosen him. Oh, part of it had been because of his great bionic potential of course, and they would talk themselves blue in the face about his leadership ability and coolness under fire during his fifteen year service in the Alliance, but what they really wanted was someone... complacent. Competent, but passive. Agreeable.

“How did it go?”

“As well as you could expect for a meeting where three-quarters of the council secretly resent the others,” Sehun replied dryly. “But fine.”

Baekyun's eyebrows raised. “So our mission then?”

Sehun pressed several buttons on his data pad and transferred the vital details over to Baekhyun's omnitool, omitting a few of the more key information he knew that the council would want to keep private. “See for yourself. Pretty routine mission. Babysitting.”

Baekhyun whistled and knocked his arm into Sehun's. “Don't say that. You know what Commander Shepard used to say about ‘routine missions’.”

Sehun didn't reply. It was still a rather sore point that the commander - defeater of Saren, first human Spectre, and general all around hero - was truly gone. Sehun had hoped to meet her one day, face to face, shake her hand and tell her how proud he was to even serve in the same Alliance that she was, but the geth had gone and made sure that would never happen.

“How close are we to be ready to fly?” Sehun asked instead, trying to get his mind off things.

“Captain says we'll be able to depart by oh-six tomorrow, although if we have to wait for our grand guest, I figure it will be later than that,” Baekhyun said, scrolling through the docket on his omnitool with his finger. “Especially since she seems to be bringing a small armada with her.”

“What?” Sehun asked, looking back at the document he had stopped reading about halfway through and scanning it quickly. “The council said nothing about that!” Sure enough, there was mentioned in the docket a small troupe of mercenaries the ambassador had already hired.

The corners of Sehun’s lips pulled down. He knew that he shouldn’t be bothered by this – it wasn’t even that many soldiers comparatively – but it still left a bad taste in his mouth. “Then what am _I_ going for?” he asked, closing the docket with a hard punch of his finger, unable to keep the scathing undertone out of his voice. “It seems she has enough firepower to make her way on any ship.”

Of course he knew why, and it had nothing to do with their distinguished guest. The council had explained it to him - the secrecy of the true mission. Reports of human colonies disappearing were being whispered under breaths. True to the council’s ways, it was being downplayed, excused. Those sorts of things happen in the colonies, without the protection of council space. But just in case, Sehun was being sent out to investigate whether or not the rumours had any substance.

Still. The ambassador didn’t know that. And to imply that he wasn’t capable enough to protect her…

“But not real Spectre power,” Baekhyun suggested brightly, bringing Sehun back out of his thoughts. He felt his lips twitch, trying to force up a smile for the XO’s sake, although unsure if he should or not, before finally giving up.

“Obviously the ambassador thinks otherwise,” Sehun said dryly, pressing his emotions away impatiently. He wasn’t about to let his impetuousness get in the way of the mission. It was always his greatest failing. “But it doesn’t matter. Hopefully they’ll keep to themselves and we’ll have a peaceful journey.”

“Or we’ll all become friends and skip merrily off into the sunset.”

Sehun wasn’t about to justify that with a response.

\---

Sehun was consulting softly with Captain Junmyeon when the page came over the intercom, announcing the ambassador’s arrival. They both turned immediately, abandoning their conversation, Junmyeon to begin relaying orders to his XO, and Sehun to head towards the airlock that would be bringing the ambassador on board.

Adjusting the long lines of his grey military uniform, Sehun managed a crisp salute the second the doors whooshed open.

“Welcome aboard the Exodus, Ambassador Seni,” he greeted the asari who stepped aboard, her footfalls eerily silent on the metal flooring.

Liness Seni, one of the most well-known ambassadors of the galaxy, was a statuesque asari, standing at least a head above Sehun himself. She had the youthful face of all asari, a soft blue streaked with subtle purple, but one look in her eyes belied all the wisdom of her many years.

“Thank you, my dear,” replied the matriarch, elegance dripping from her words as much as from the gossamer gown she wore. She extended a soft hand towards Sehun, pressing her long fingertips against the back of his wrist, and smiled. “I look forward to travelling with you and the Captain.”

Sehun felt himself relaxing, her very presence exuding a quiet calm, and his mouth went from a flat line into a softer one as he nodded his head in acceptance of her words. “We will do all we can to keep you safe.”

The Ambassador withdrew her hand, interlacing it with her other and letting them rest against her front. “I am certain of it.”

Sehun gestured towards the front of the ship with a sweeping motion of his arm. “Would you like to meet him? Captain Junmyeon, I mean?”

“Of course, my dear.” Ambassador Seni inclined her head graciously.

Sehun lead her towards the command centre, letting her take in the state of the ship. Most of the conduits had been repaired, but some of the walls were still stained black from fires, panels missing, wires exposed – scars from its battle against the geth. Captain Junmyeon and the Exodus had been one of lucky ones, surviving the brutal battle to save the Destiny Ascension, a testament to both her captain and crew.

Said captain’s face broke into a sunny smile when he saw their visitor.

“Ambassador,” he greeted her warmly, stepping forward and holding out his hands.

“Junmyeon,” she replied in a similar manner, slipping her hands into his and squeezing them. “It’s been too long. Last time I saw you, you were but a cadet.”

The captain laughed. “Yes. I believe you were scolding me at the time.”

Seni let her own serene smile play across her mouth. “You must have been doing something worth scolding.”

Junmyeon laughed again, patting her hands before letting them go and nodding in Sehun’s direction. “Maybe you should check up on the Ambassador’s retinue, make sure they’re comfortable as well.”

Sehun hid his displeasure at being so summarily dismissed, but he couldn’t just disobey a direct order. With a crisp salute, he left the two to continue their catch-up and took the elevator to the cargo hold.

The five mercenaries were making themselves quite at home already in the cargo hold. They had taken over a corner of it, pushing supply boxes out of the way and to the side to make room for their own armour and weapons crates. Two of them were polishing their guns, while another two were squatted down, apparently counting something.

Only one of them, a tall, dark-haired individual was sitting watch. Still in his armoured legs but only a white tank top, his under body armour rolled down to rest on his hips, he watched Sehun’s arrival with dark eyes. His hair was cut short, spiked up with sweat, his bronze skin practically glowing with a sheen of it. He was attractive as all hell, and probably knew it, and Sehun was torn between wanting to admire him and roll his eyes. He had met his fair share of the same type, especially in the early training of the ICT, and they always ended up the same way – unable to hold their own the minute shit got tough.

“Looks like our babysitter is here,” the pretty boy tossed back to the other mercs, still not moving his gaze from Sehun’s. It was a little discerning, making Sehun’s stomach turn strangely, but he didn’t let anything show on his face.

“Be nice,” replied a soft spoken man, not even looking up from the scope he was inspecting. “Maybe he’s bringing snacks.”

“I’m here to ask you if you have anything you might need,” Sehun said calmly, not letting the jibes get to him. He wasn’t some rookie, fresh out of academy. “Snacks could be provided. Or I could show you the mess.” The last sentence came out a little drier than he had meant it to, but only the sharp-eyed man seemed to notice, judging by his narrowing gaze.

“I vote the latter,” spoke up one of the men, slamming the lid shut on the case and locking it with a click. “I’m starving. And anything this place could feed us would be better than the slop from the last ship.”

“Hey,” the one beside him protested, shoving him hard enough to knock the other off-balance, the first one laughing. “I cooked that.”

“I know.”

Sehun simply waited until they were finished joking with each other, trying not to let his impatience show.

“Do we get bunks too?” the first man asked, jumping down from his perch. “Or are we confined to the cargo hold for the journey?”

“Captain Junmyeon has provided visitors quarters for you, yes,” Sehun replied, trying not to take offense at the question. Insulting him was one thing, insulting one of the best captains in the fleet was entirely another. He internally set his shoulders, then forced a small smile.

“Would you like me to show you?”

The first man, however, surprised him, shoving out his hand to shake his smartly. “Huang Zitao,” he introduced himself with a smile that was suddenly bright enough to rival some stars.

Sehun blinked to try and clear his vision, confused by the sudden turn. “Oh Sehun.”

Zitao shoved his hands in his pockets, still grinning. “It’s nice to meet you, Oh Sehun.”

Sehun wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he simply half-nodded, half-shrugged and turned to show them the rest of the ship.

\---

The mercenaries mostly kept to themselves, apart from the crew. Not that it mattered to Sehun. In fact, it was probably better to keep them out of trouble.

So the last thing Sehun expected when he punched into the mess was to find Zitao the sole occupant at the bar, knocking back a glass of liquor. Part of him wanted to turn around, head back to his own bunk, but they didn’t give out N7s for cowardice and he had had a long, complicated day getting yelled at by the weapons engineer while they tried to calibrate the guns and needed a drink.

Zitao obviously heard the door anyway and turned to look. His eyebrows raised, but he made a motioning gesture, inviting him to come and sit. Sehun scowled internally, but the stakes were raised that much more. He _definitely_ couldn’t turn back now.

“Your captain keeps a fine stock,” Zitao said, bending over the bar to grab another glass. Sehun pointedly refused to look at his ass. “I’ll say that much about him.”

“Is that all you’ll say?” Sehun asked dryly, sliding into the chair next to him as Zitao settled back, glass in hand.

To Sehun’s surprise, Zitao didn’t take the bait, instead pouring him a glass of whatever he was drinking – bright blue and looking very alcoholic. “I don’t have a love for the Alliance,” Zitao explained, surprisingly honestly, “but I like your captain. He seems like a good guy.”

“He is a good guy,” Sehun said, eying the drink suspiciously when Zitao pushed it towards him. He brought the glass up to his mouth and took a small sip. Just as he thought, his mouth was on fire, burned clean and cool the instant the liquid touched his tongue. “Strong stuff,” he murmured, taking another mouthful, letting this one slide all down his esophagus.

“Horosk,” Zitao replied. “One of the best things the Turians have done in years.” He raised his glass in a mock toast to Sehun before taking another swig.

Sehun made a noncommittal noise, letting the conversation drop. He wasn’t opposed to drinking in silence.

Apparently Zitao was.

“So what’s a commander like you doing on a tub like this? You should have your own ship by now.”

Sehun shrugged, tapping his fingers around the edge of the glass. “I don’t want to be tied down to the day to day of running a ship,” he said. “This way, I have the freedom to leave if I want, and I don’t have to worry; the crew will still be taken care of.” A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Besides. This is how Commander Shepard started out, and she got her own ship eventually as well.”

Zitao snorted, his glass dangling from his fingertips as he rested his elbow on the counter. “As if Commander Shepard” –he said the name with vehemence—“should in any way be revered.”

Sehun turned to look at him with a frown. “She saved the galaxy from a geth invasion.”

“She turned her back on her own kind to save a bunch of upstart councilmen,” Zitao spat back.

“For which we were rewarded with a place on said council.”

“At the cost of how many human lives?”

Sehun could feel the corners of his mouth continue to turn down unhappily. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like Cerberus.”

“Maybe I understand a little where they’re coming from.”

Sehun’s mouth fell open in shock, but before he could say anything Zitao waived his hand dismissively, holding up his drink with the other. “Don’t worry. I’m not into terrorism. And I’m a little drunk. Don’t listen to me.”

Zitao looked out the window at the inky space floating past and Sehun couldn’t help but trace his gaze down the sharp angle of his jaw. “I lost someone important to me in that battle. I’m not sure if I haven’t forgiven them for going, or myself for letting them go, or Commander Shepard for making the choice.”

Sehun wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had lost friends too, both to fighting and just to the nature of his job. It was just how things were. But something told him saying that to Zitao wouldn’t ease his mind or help his cause.

A sudden bark of high laughter broke his thoughts, and his eyes widened as Zitao threw back his head, waving his hand in front of his face. “God! Listen to me. I sound like a maudlin drunk.” He gave Sehun’s back a hard whack, refilling the small amount of liquor that Sehun had already drank. “Come on, drink up. Let’s finish the captain’s bottle.” A wicked grin crossed Zitao’s face. “I know he can afford it.”

\---

“Sehun!”

Sehun turned to see Zitao coming up right behind him, but not quite fast enough to duck underneath the arm that swung around his shoulders and pulled him in. He probably could have resisted if he tried, but something stopped him and he let Zitao turn him around.

“Come on; I bet you haven’t tried anything as awful as Lay trying to cook with military rations.”

“I want to try this?” Sehun asked, but he couldn’t stop his smile, and let himself be pulled along for the ride.

Zitao just laughed, a flash of small bright teeth in the dim hall lighting. “Of course. Sharing is caring!”

Sehun felt his heart flutter.

\---

Sehun was in the middle of inspecting his armour for cracks when one of the mercenaries – Chen, if he remembered right – came over to stand next to him, hands behind his back, expression neutral. The mercenary set Sehun on edge ever so slightly. He seemed friendly enough, smiling at him whenever they happened to pass each other, but there was something… hard in his eyes that never really left.

“Impressive,” Chen said, and Sehun couldn’t help but search the casually spoken word for something behind it.

“Thank you,” he returned politely instead, feeling his nerves tingle as if standing next to leashed varren. He ran his fingers over the breast plate, tips catching on the edges of the N7 logo, remembering the sheer pride he had felt when he had been handed his designation, burning through the pain and exhaustion. “I fought hard for this.”

Chen merely nodded, as if it was something acknowledged, but then deemed inconsequential. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Speaking of, we’re having a friendly sparring match down in the cargo hold. Perhaps you’d like to come teach us a few things?”

Sehun hesitated. “I’m not sure… The captain wanted me to go over –”

“And that can’t be pushed back?”

Sehun could feel the subtle force behind the words, as harmless as they sounded with the gentile smile that accompanied it, and something inside him bristled. He soothed it down through sheer force of inner will. There was no point in making enemies of this bunch if he could help it. They were still a few days out from their destination anyway.

“Of course,” he hummed and began putting away his materials. Chen continued to stand there, watching him, and Sehun felt a little like a fish in an aquarium. He deliberately moved just a fraction slower than he normally would have – a slight rebellion in his own way.

When he was finished, however, he inclined his head, motioning for Chen to lead the way.

Chen gave him an amused look, and Sehun knew with a sudden conviction that he had noticed Sehun’s tardiness and had not only waited there, but done so for the sheer pleasure of rubbing in his face. It took a great deal of Sehun’s training not to blush like he was a fresh recruit again.

The mercenaries had already begun by the time he had gotten there. They were all stripped down to their undershirts and pants, most of them covered in a fine sheen of sweat. There were even a couple members of the crew in attendance –

“Sehun!” Zitao shouted, waving at him from across the way, and Sehun felt his entire body relax.

“Came to make sure you weren’t breaking the place,” he told him as Zitao came over to stand beside him.

Zitao snorted. “Please. We’d break out the weapons if we wanted to do that.”

An easy laugh bubbled from Sehun’s chest. He couldn’t help but enjoy the company of this slightly irreverent man, even if he was a mercenary.

His thoughts were interrupted by the shouts of the crew, and he looked back at the makeshift ring to see Xiumin sitting quite squarely on Lay’s chest, holding his leg to pin him. At Lay’s smack on the floor, the first man stood, holding out his hand to pull Lay to his feet amongst the cheers and grumbles of the betting men around them.

“Who’s next?” Xiumin smirked, looking around.

Chen jabbed his thumb towards Sehun. “What about our commander here?”

Xiumin snorted, catching a towel that Lay threw at him in order to dab at his face. “I’m not taking on a _Spectre_. What kind of idiot do you think I am?”

“I’ll do it.”

Sehun turned to raise an eyebrow at the man beside him. Zitao met him with an equally amused look.

“Unless you’re scared?” he challenged, and suddenly Sehun felt all of fifteen and brash and he didn’t _care_. Didn’t care that it was beneath his station. Didn’t care that it would be rather undignified. Didn’t care that this had nothing to do with his mission. It was oddly freeing.

“You wish,” he snorted, unbuttoning his jacket.

Ignoring the shouts and sounds of the men around him placing bets, he stripped down to his undershirt, folding his uniform neatly beside the boxes before stepping into the middle of the ring.

Zitao gave him a wicked smile and Sehun felt something in the region of his guts spike sudden hot. He pressed it away, locking it in the place he put all his emotions when he needed to concentrate. Instead, he watched him carefully, tracking where he put his weight on his feet. He could feel his breath settle into a rhythm, his hands tingling, locked into defensive fists. This was easy. This was familiar. He could _do_ this.

When Zitao sprang, Sehun was ready for him, but it still took him slightly off guard both the speed and ferocity of the attack. He grappled around his waist and used his momentum to twist Zitao into a tumble. He went over easily, but Zitao was prepared, taking out Sehun’s leg with a well-timed hooked ankle. A hard “ _Oomph_ ” exploded out of Sehun’s mouth as he hit on his back, but he pulled his limbs into a roll onto his side.

What had started out as a sparring match quickly deteriorated into a scuffling brawl as Zitao grabbed Sehun’s leg, tugging him across the floor. Sehun squawked in distress and kicked, trying to get Zitao to let go of him, until his foot finally connected with Zitao’s shoulder, knocking him back. Sehu rolled to his feet, panting, but unable to keep the grin from his mouth as he watched Zitao with careful eyes. Zitao was a lot more graceful than he had originally imagined, moving fluidly around him.

“Want to surrender?” Zitao asked, panting hard, his black hair falling across his forehead in damp spikes, his dark eyes dancing with mirth.

“Not on your life,” Sehun said back. “You know you’ll never beat me.”

Zitao laughed, high and happy, and Sehun’s heart, already pounding took to fluttering instead. “Right,” Zitao said, but the words were suffused with warmth. “Because you’re the great Oh Sehun.”

“Exa— _ung_.” Sehun’s words were cut off as Zitao suddenly tackled him around the waist, dropping him back to the hard metal floor, feeling it bite into the flesh of his shoulder blades.

Zitao fought with a dirty, elegant grace, Sehun couldn’t help but admit as he twisted underneath him, trying to wrap his arm around Zitao’s neck in a hold, but Zitao slithered free, rolling him. He continued the movement though, trying to throw Zitao off balance, finally ending up on top of him, holding his hands by the wrists by his head to keep them on the floor, even as Zitao wrapped his legs in a lock around his hips.

It was only in that brief moment that Sehun realised their position, Zitao pinned beneath him, panting as hard as he was. The expanse of his neck and shoulders, the hooks of his collarbones drew Sehun’s gaze skin shining so brightly with sweat, making Sehun itch to taste it – see if it tasted as good as it looked.

Sehun exploded off of Zitao with a curse, hoping to everything that Zitao had _not_ felt how Sehun’s cock had suddenly jumped in his pants, but covered up the sudden uncomfortable tightness with a smug swagger and a smirk.

“That’s why you don’t mess with a Spectre,” he told him, even as he reached down to clasp Zitao’s wrist amidst the cheers from the crew.

Zitao took it, pulling himself up, but then pulled Sehun close. “I’ll win next time,” he said, his eyes dark and glittering and Sehun suddenly felt that Zitao knew way too much.

\---

Sehun watched from the loft as the crew was preparing the ship to transport the ambassador to the island, his arms crossed.

“I notice they aren’t loading your things onto the ship.” Zitao appeared at Sehun’s shoulder. It had come to be a pretty common place for him, but Sehun didn’t mind. It was a comfortable place.

“That’s because I’m not going with you guys,” he replied easily, his eyes not moving.

Zitao made a show of surprise. “What do you mean?” His voice sounded almost _pouty_. For some reason, it made some of the tension in Sehun’s stomach ease.

Sehun threw his gaze over to him slightly condescendingly, but kept his tone light, teasing. “That’s why she brought your ugly face, wasn’t it?” Zitao rolled his eyes. Sehun turned back to the front, glad his friend hadn’t been offended. “The Captain wants me to remain on the ship in case something happens.”

Zitao harrumphed. “This whole trip has been nothing but boring,” he complained, slinging his arm onto Sehun’s shoulder and leaning on him, his weight and warmth nice against Sehun’s side. “I guess it’ll end as undramatically as it began.”

Sehun grinned. “At least we’re getting paid though, right?”

\---

Sehun engaged his engines on the shuttle, gently pulling it out of the hull of the ship.

“This is Alpha-Zero-Two; I’m clear of the Exodus.”

“Understood,” crackled back Baekhyun’s voice from the com. “Have a good trip, Commander.”

“Thanks, XO.” Sehun flipped the control switch to ‘off’ and sat back in his seat. It was a couple hours to the colony of Fortune’s Bay, and he planned on sleeping for a decent chunk of it.

“So. Where we going?”

Sehun jumped, his gaze immediately shooting to Zitao climbing into the seat beside him.

“What the fuck?” He glared. “Zitao, what the fuck are you doing here?”

Zitao just shrugged, seemingly not bothered by Sehun’s anger. “Following you, of course. You think I didn’t see past that little ‘Oh, the captain needs me on his ship’?” He threw a disbelieving glance Sehun’s way. “I wasn’t born yesterday. You don’t send a Spectre on a mission with an ambassador and then not send them _with_ the ambassador – unless of course, they had _another_ mission. Hence, I followed you.”

Sehun grunted. “I guess you aren’t as stupid as you look.”

Zitao snorted. “I’m handsome as fuck and you know it.” He propped his boots on the console. “So, again. Where are we going?”

After a moment of deliberation, Sehun decided to let him in. If he was coming along, at least he should know what he was in for.

“I’m investigating some possible strange abandonments of human colonies,” he told him. “There have been some odd reports and I’ve been sent to look into them. Super secretly, of course.”

Zitao’s mouth twisted into a thin line, obviously displeased. “Of course. It’s not like human lives are of particular concern to the council,” he said, a hint of bitterness coming through in his voice.

Sehun’s hands tightened on the steering. “Some of us care,” he said softly.

He saw Zitao’s countenance soften out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah,” Zitao agreed, seemingly ready to hold in his opinion for the moment. He smiled, his short teeth flashing in the darkened light of the cabin. “I suppose if I was to put humanity’s chances in someone’s hands, I’d rather it be in yours.”

Sehun was flattered.

They arrived at the planet several hours later, Sehun too busy punching in the coordinates to land to appreciate the beauty of the rust and blue landscape as they burned into the atmosphere.

“Time to suit up,” he said as the ship landed with a hard hiss and a jolt, the artificial gravity switching off for the natural planet’s instead, making his head feel oddly heavy at first.

“Way ahead of you,” Zitao replied, already unbuckled and headed towards the back.

Sehun may not have appreciated the environment coming down, but once he stepped from the shuttle, he was hit with a wave of nostalgia so intense he could feel it in the back of his throat.

The buildings in their cheap, shipping box format, stacked on each other with metal stairs leading to the higher levels were sprawled over a rocky hill. Small cement platforms had been erected for various purposes – a small playground, a sporting event area, a few picnic tables, a marketplace. It was so similar to the settlement that Sehun had grown up in, right down to the mixed smell of ship fuel and grass, it was like he had been transported twenty years into his past.

And yet, it was eerily still. It took several seconds to realise that the place was silent of the sounds of human life. Bugs buzzed in the grass, some call of a native animal sounded in the distance, but there was nothing that sounded like human life. No voices, no laughter, no movement, _nothing_. It made all the hairs on the back of Sehun’s neck stand up.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it,” Sehun said through his com.

“Same.” Zitao already had his weapon out, the assault rifle resting down by his waist, but Sehun could see the tightness in his arms and knew that only the smallest thing would be enough to cause him to bring it up.

Sehun brought up his barrier with a thought and he saw the slight surprise on Zitao’s face as the blue flickered over his system and then dulled against his armour. Sehun supposed he hadn’t really warned him about being a biotic, but it was too late for that revelation now.

“Let’s go.” He moved out towards the small town, feeling something dreadful in the pit of his stomach.

It took him a few moments to realise exactly what felt so wrong about the place.

There were no signs of battle. Nothing. No blaster marks, no overturned chairs, nothing. There was a setting of a meal for four still sitting half-eaten on the table. A basketball that had simply rolled to the side of the cement pad. Datapads sitting haphazardly on the benches, like they had been set down and then just never picked up again.

“This is creepy as fuck,” Zitao noted, assault rifle at his shoulder now. Sehun too had pistol in hand, not wanting to be caught unaware.

“I’m going to check up there at the communication tower,” Sehun said, pointing towards a tall rocky outpost with a large white antennae on it. “See if I can find anything. You want to look for survivors?”

Zitao nodded and moved off into the more densely crowded buildings, although not before knocking the back of his gauntlet against Sehun’s shoulder for luck.

Sehun kept his pistol firmly in front of him, searching for enemies that probably didn’t exist. His boots crunched over the rocks on the slope up towards the communication tower. When he crested the hill, however, what he saw brought him to a screeching halt, and he fell to his belly under the lip of the hill.

Two creatures stood there, their large triangle shaped heads cocked towards the top of the tower, as if searching it. Their dark, chitinous amour glinted dully in the overcast sky, and one of them fluttered their wings briefly before folding them against their body again. Large, strange looking guns sat cradled in their two-fingered hands, although Sehun had no doubts about their ability to blast him into tiny atoms.

“What the fuck?” Sehun whispered to himself, almost not believing his eyes. What the fuck were Collectors doing here? Of all places?

A shot rang out in the distance and both Collector’s head snapped around instantly, a rapidfire burst of clicking erupting from them.

“Shit,” Sehun swore to himself, hoping Zitao was alright. He pulled his pistol out, quickly aiming in between the creepy double set of glowing eyes. The force of the shot propelled the insectoid back, falling down. The second creature immediately began firing at Sehun, forcing him to roll away slightly before reaiming and taking him down as well.

He was half debating about going up to see what they were looking at when right before his eyes, the bodies simply… disappeared. As if they had been eaten away. He decided to find Zitao first, make sure he wasn’t in trouble. He flipped over to hop back down to the path that was now a little below him.

Sehun felt the heat of the blast beside him before actually registering the noise. Then the shockwave hit him, knocking him back against the craggy rockface, his skull slamming into the back of his helmet so hard he saw stars.

“Fuck,” he swore, trying to shake off the ringing in his ears, when he heard Zitao’s yell crackle through his headpiece.

“ _Fuck_!” he swore, louder this time, and propped his gun back up, picking off the two collectors scrabbling up over the rocky outface. “I’m coming Zitao,” he told him through the headpiece and began hauling ass over to where he last saw him, rocks and debris falling under his boots.

He found him cornered in by buildings, picking off at least a dozen collectors, slowly advancing on him.

Sehun sucked in a breath, gathering his energy, feeling his bionics spark in his brain, his blood, and hold there. It was like trying to hold in lightening. He set his eye on the nearest collector, then… let go.

He flew at the speed of light, bashing into the alien with a force that throw the creature towards the ground. Not letting even a second go by, Sehun pulled his shotgun off his back and blasted the next creature in the face, twice, gathering his power again. His hair stood on end as the energy sizzled through his system and he repeated the charge, blasting through one creature to the one behind it, shoving his gauntleted fist into the alien’s strange pointed face.

A loud chitering behind him made him whirl, using his biotics to pull the creature off guard, his shot missing, and into the range of his shotgun.

Sehun ejected the thermal clip and took a quick look around to assess the situation. A hand pressed at his shoulder, and he nearly whirled and blasted it off, but it was Zitao, coming up.

“Come on!” he shouted through the com. “We gotta fucking leave!”

Sehun couldn’t agree more.

They both took off in a dead sprint towards the shuttle, watching as Collectors began flying in, blocking their path. Zitao lifted his gun to his shoulder, shooting his way past, but Sehun could quickly see that they would be overrun within minutes if he didn’t do something.

“Take cover!” he yelled at him, knowing he was going to save him or die trying.

Zitao took one wide-eyed look at him, but did as he was told, diving behind a large planter.

Sehun hoped his implant was up for this.

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his bionics to him and charged right dead centre of the now over a dozen collectors between them and the ship. But instead of raising his gun after knocking the creature down, he concentrated all his bionics inside, hard and faster and tighter. He pulled all the eezo he could out of his barrier, his blood, his hair, the very air around him, until he was holding onto something that felt no more controllable than the sun.

He let go.

The blast ripped through him, his brain exploding in white hot pain that instantly dropped him to his knees in agony.

But then Zitao was there, pulling at his armpits, hoisting him into a run.

“Fucking _go_!” Zitao encouraged, his voice crackling through Sehun’s helmet like it was coming from far away. Sehun felt like he couldn’t breathe, blind with numbing pain, fumbling at the strap to his helmet. He barely noted when his feet were hitting the metal of the ships flooring.

Zitao dumped Sehun against the inner door, dropping his own helmet on the ground as he leapt into the pilot’s seat and buckled himself into the chair.

“Hang on,” he yelled back grimly, and Sehun grabbed the netting behind the benches with one hand, the other still pressed against his head, the throbbing almost unbearable. The force of Zitao taking off caused him to lurch off balance, but serendipitously, he smacked his shoulder into the shuttles’ first aid kit. With a groan, he dug into the box, pulling out a small syringe. Pressing it against his neck, he pressed the button and sighed in relief as the medicine entered his blood stream, dulling his headache considerably.

The burn of the ship leaving atmo faded softly into the hum of regular spaceflight.

“That was magnificent by the way.”

“I _am_ a Spectre,” Sehun reminded him dryly as Zitao unbuckled himself from the pilot’s chair and headed back towards him.

Zitao snorted and moved to start taking off his armour. Sehun followed suit, stripping off his gauntlets and gloves. His arm guard and breastplate were next, leaving them in a pile beside him, knowing they’d need repairs and buffing anyway and not wanting to spend any longer in them.

“True enough. I supposed I thought it had more to do with your dashing looks, though.”

That surprised a laugh from Sehun. Peeling off his leg armour, he looked up to give a tired grin at Zitao, but it faded when he saw the blood trickling down from his arm.

“You’re injured?”

Zitao looked at his arm as he pulled his burnt arm guard off, a large, bleeding gouge in his flesh. “Looks that way,” he remarked.

Sehun scowled.

“Sit.”

Zitao hissed as Sehun slapped the medi-gel onto the wound in his arm, the skin around the mark dark red from the burn. The ship around them hummed as it flew autopilot back to the Exodus, the two of them sitting back on the long galley benches, first aid kit open beside Sehun’s hip.

“We’re going to have to go back.” Sehun could feel his mouth mumbling, trying to keep up with his brain. Now that his headache was receding, thoughts were quickly flooding in the fill the gap. Collectors! The council would never believe it. _He_ could barely believe it and he had been there and seen them with his own eyes. They hadn’t been seen in years. What were they doing on the abandoned settlement? Was this another invading force? The fleet was already decimated from Saren’s geth attack not that long ago. They couldn’t afford another full-scale battle.

“Sehun.” Sehun realised that Zitao had already called his name several times.

He smiled ruefully. “Sorry.”

Zitao just pressed his thumb to Sehun’s forehead in between his eyebrows, focusing him. “Don’t be sorry. You saved me out there.” Zitao’s eyes went distant, a little dreamy, and for the life of him, Sehun couldn’t stop staring at his beautiful bow mouth as it formed words. “Fuck, that was the most fantastic display of fighting I’ve seen, and believe me, I’ve seen my share of vanguards, but you were out there and you moved so _beautifully_ and fuck Sehun, you’re—”

Sehun couldn’t help himself any longer – letting the adrenaline still thrumming through his system propel him forward to plant his mouth clumsily on Zitao’s perfect one. As quickly as he kissed him though, he pulled back, embarrassed – at himself, his lack of control, the crack in his put-togetherness that Zitao seemed to slither through as easily as he pleased.

“S-sorry,” he stammered again, “I don’t usually… I just—your mouth, I mean, you almost – we almost _died_ and—”

This time it was Zitao who leaned forward and cut Sehun off with a searing kiss, burning up Sehun’s lips with the heat of his own. Sehun didn’t hesitate, kissing him back with a breathless gratefulness, glad to be alive, glad to be holding onto Zitao, glad to be _here_.

“Fucking finally,” Zitao murmured against him, panting before taking his mouth again, sucking eagerly at Sehun’s thin top lip. Sehun gripped Zitao’s shoulders, squeezing, pulling him in closer, wanting to feel his heat.

“God, I don’t know—” he grunted when they paused for shaking breaths, feeling like the air in the cabin of the small vessel was suddenly far too hot.

Zitao just grinned, his hands sliding up underneath Sehun’s uniform, touching pale flesh with fingers warm enough to ignite Sehun’s entire body on fire. “Come on, haven’t you ever had some post-battle sex?” he teased, nudging his way up the angle of Sehun’s jaw.

Sehun couldn’t help the pout that crossed his face, even as he arched against him. Something about it being just a biological need rankled the back of his neck, even though he knew it was ridiculous. He didn’t want to stop – not really. It didn’t stop the flicker of disappointment tickle the back of his throat. “No. Spectres are held to higher standards.”

Something in his voice must have given him away because one of Zitao’s hands came out of his shirt and went to the back of his head, pulling him close enough that their foreheads touched. Sehun met Zitao’s gaze squarely, searching for something there.

“Then don’t be a Spectre,” Zitao said, his eyes practically glowing. This close, his eyes were no longer simply dark – they were warm and brown and deep and Sehun found a little what he was looking for. “Be Oh Sehun. That’s who I like more anyway.”

Sehun couldn’t help it and smiled. “Well, that’s because I am perfect. In case you had forgotten.”

Zitao laughed, his eyes crinkling, his sharp teeth flashing and Sehun quickly found himself joining him, feeling it flow free and easy from deep in his chest. His hands slid to either side of Zitao’s jaw.

Then they were kissing again, Sehun pulling him in close. Zitao’s hands were back under his shirt, tracing their way over muscles and up the sides of his ribs.

Sehun’s breath panted hot, fanning over Zitao’s skin as he pulled him in. Zitao went easily, crawling into his lap like he belonged there, straddling his legs on either side of Sehun’s hips. He felt as though he could feel every muscle of Zitao’s thighs through his underarmour, his cock already straining at the lightest touches.

A small hiss escaped Sehun’s mouth as Zitao’s fingers found his nipples, brushing over them easily, eagerly. Not about to deny himself anymore, he attached his mouth to Zitao’s neck, nipping, licking that glowing skin that had been tantalising him for so, so long. He tasted of sweat and dirt and the weird chemical heat of thermal clips, and Sehun was certain he could simply feast on him as long as he was allowed.

The second that Zitao’s fingers brushed over his cock, Sehun would swear his implant melted again.

“Fuck,” Zitao swore, biting his lower lip until it had disappeared entirely inside his mouth. The corners of his lips turned up enticingly. “You are just full of surprises.”

Sehun grunted, his hands dropping down to grip at the muscles of Zitao’s ass. “I have no idea what that means,” he replied flatly before moving up to kiss that beautiful mouth, dipping his tongue in to taste his teeth.

Zitao keened high in his throat, rocking back against him, even as his tongue boldly slid out to slide against his own. It was hot, it was fierce, and Sehun had never felt so alive as he did in that moment.

Sehun’s hands worked at the clip to separate Zitao’s shirt from his pants, wanting to be touching skin too, wanting feel with his fingers and mouth all the lithe muscles underneath his armour and tank tops and swagger.

“Fuck,” Zitao hissed as Sehun dragged his nails gently over his hipbones, pelvis flexing against Sehun’s hotly. Sehun bit down on the tendon of Zitao’s neck, hearing the guttural sound it resulted in and feeling it shoot straight to his cock. “The instant we get back to the Exodus, I’m dragging you to your bedroom,” Zitao grunted, sucking his lip in between his teeth.

Sehun nudged his face across his so he could do that for him, even as a soft laugh puffed its way out of his chest and against Zitao’s mouth. “Too good for the seat of a shuttle?”

The retaliation to his teasing was a palm pressed long and slow and hard against the arc of his cock that made Sehun’s eyes cross. He would have jerked up into his hands, but Zitao’s thighs held him fairly securely pinned.

“I’m not flying for two hours back to the ship listening to you complain about the mess in your pants,” Zitao replied,

He stroked his hand down the back of Zitao’s spine, slipping under his shirt to feel the muscles on his back, just kissing him for now. “I think I’m old enough not to come in my pants like a teenager,” he couldn’t help but grouse, feeling his forehead draw together in a frown.

But Zitao just laughed, kissing him until the lines on his forehead disappeared all together.

\---

In fact, it took him all of two hours to get Zitao into his bed. The first had been talking to the Captain, reporting what he had seen and done in a calm, even tone. Junmyeon’s eyes had widened, surprised, at the mention of the Collectors, but he said nothing. Sehun knew he wouldn’t, either. That was for Sehun to report. The second hour had been trying to buff out the scorch marks in his breastplate.

That’s when Zitao had shown up at his door, impatient and scowling. “I can’t believe you’re cleaning your _armour_ ,” he practically whined, but Sehun dragged him into his chambers, laughing and locking the door behind him.

He pushed Zitao onto the bed and practically pounced on him.

“So this _is_ what you like, hmm?” Zitao teased, wrapping his legs around Sehun’s hips as he pulled him in. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your… _attention_ during our sparring that day.”

Sehun grunted, already mouthing against Zitao’s beautiful, wonderful, annoying mouth. “Shut up,” he replied elegantly. “I want your shirt off.”

Zitao laughed –Sehun was sure he’d never get tired of the sound—and lifted his arms to help tug his tunic over his head.

Sehun slid down Zitao’s torso, kissing and nipping little marks over him. Finding every scar with a kiss. Making his own mark beside it. Claiming him with his teeth as Zitao gasped and writhed and called his name in a soft, high-pitched, breathy voice, his fingers dug into Sehun’s dark hair. He made a swift detour over to one of his dark nipples, laving over it wetly until it crinkled in the cold and Sehun could pull it between his teeth.

“Fuck, Sehuuun,” Zitao moaned, arching underneath him, and Sehun felt a zip of power and arousal slip down him at how hot Zitao was, calling for him like that.

He moved further down, pulling slowly tugging down Zitao’s tights, kissing his way over the cuts of his hips, mouthing into the hollows there. He still tasted the same, perhaps less dirt and sweat, more soap, but still like spice and heat and thermal clips and Sehun was certain he’d always associate the taste with him now.

The instant Zitao’s cock bounced free from his pants, hard and wet against his belly, Sehun had to stop, his throat going dry.

“My turn,” Zitao grunted, using Sehun’s pause for his own gain, slipping his pants the rest of the way off before sitting up to capture Sehun’s mouth in a long, wet kiss. “Let me see how hot you look naked.”

Sehun let Zitao undress him, trying instead to breath him in, sucking his mouth, biting his lips and letting them snap from between his teeth.

“Yes,” Zitao hissed as Sehun’s cock was freed into the cool air. He already felt too swollen, his cock hot and damp at the tip, and he gurgled something that might have been Zitao’s name as Zitao fisted it slowly, drawing the foreskin back away from the sensitive head a little further with every stroke.

That wasn’t even close to the final thing, as Sehun found out when Zitao leaned down and swirled his tongue over the head, sending sparks rushing through his blood like eezo.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” he whispered, hunching over Zitao’s head, the gentle scrape of his tongue on Sehun’s tender flesh turning his mind into white mush. His fingers scrabbled for a hold in Zitao’s short dark hair, groans wrenching themselves from his throat.

“Glad you like that,” Zitao grinned, looking far too smug and put together for Sehun’s liking, but before he could protest, throw him back on the bed and give him a taste of his own medicine, Zitao opened his throat and took him down nearly halfway in one go.

Sehun nearly choked on his own tongue.

Zitao’s mouth was hot and wet and tight, his tongue pressed hard against the bottom of his cock, the gentle pressure of his sharp little teeth a tease instead of a threat.

“Zi..Zitao,” Sehun gasped, unable to even think straight. Especially when Zitao began to move back, suck hard, loud, _wet_. The muscles in his thighs trembled, his fingers tugging at the strands. Another ragged moan slipped out of his mouth as Zitao moaned, the vibrations on his cock nearly undoing him, even before Zitao took him deep again.

Soon, Sehun had to stop him, pull him off, and even that look was nearly too much – Zitao’s bow mouth all plump and red, shiny with spit, corners turned up in a smirk.

“Fucking… _hell_ ,” Sehun swore and pushed Zitao down on the bed, needing to taste that mouth for himself. “You are incredible.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Zitao replied with a giggle, wrapping his arms around Sehun’s shoulders.

“I want you.”

Sehun half expected another sarcastic remark, something snarky, but Zitao just pulled him down and kissed him hard, bruisingly, as if trying to force his feelings through his mouth.

“I want you too,” he replied, eyes open and honest as always.

Sehun took his time prepping Zitao, working his fingers into him slow and steady until Zitao was clawing at his back in hapless impatience, and Sehun wondered in the back of his mind if Zitao would ever actually be fully satisfied.

He slicked himself up, lining his cock up with Zitao’s puffy rim, worked deep pink and wet by Sehun, his hand shaking slightly with all the adrenaline running through his body. He took a deep breath, calming himself, pulling himself together as if trying to centre his bionics, then pressed inside.

“Oh _fuck_!” Zitao exploded, arching against him, his thighs locked around Sehun’s hips, heel digging into his hamstring. “Do that _again_!”

Sehun paused, not quite sure what Zitao was talking about. “The fucking… electricity thing,” Zitao explained, his voice rushed and needy and the slightest bit exasperated which Sehun found oddly charming even now.

“You asked for it,” Sehun warned him, leaning down to press his mouth against Zitao’s before pulling a little at the eezo in his blood as he slammed into him again. Zitao groaned, eyes rolling back, and his nails dug into Sehun’s shoulder, his other hand clutched at the pillow behind him.

Sehun couldn’t believe how good it felt like this, buried deep inside Zitao’s heat, the smell, sound, _feel_ of him all around, taking everything Sehun was and just giving it back tenfold. He wished he was better with words, wished there was a way to tell Zitao how he felt, how much he loved what he was when Zitao was beside him.

“Zitao…” he breathed, looking down at him, panting.

He watched as Zitao’s unfocused gaze sharpened, then the next thing he knew, Zitao’s fingers were sliding into his mouth, pressing heavy and thick on his tongue.

Sehun moaned, freed from speech, and he sucked hard at Zitao’s digits as he fucked him the best he could, tried to pound him through the mattress. Little sparks arcing between them as his skin smacked rhythmically against the backs of Zitao’s thighs, a soft blue haze of light sparkling over the bed.

It didn’t take long before Sehun could feel his orgasm approaching with rapid speed, barrelling down on him like a wild varren, unrelenting. He whined around Zitao’s fingers in his mouth, feeling spit drip down his chin as he strove to please him, make him feel just as good as he did. He kept his gaze centred on Zitao’s face, watching as it twisted open with pleasure, pink riding high on his cheeks, gaze so beautifully unfocused, all the little gasps and whines and sounds coming from him making Sehun’s balls draw up against him until finally he could hold it no more. With a ragged cry, muffled by the weight in his mouth, Sehun came, arching hard and slamming deep into Zitao as he pumped him full of thick, hot come.

He came down slowly, whimpering, but didn’t want to leave Zitao hanging. He moved his hand from where it was locked around one of Zitao’s perfect thighs to Zitao’s cock, adding a little bit of bionics to his touch. It was sloppy, the way he ground his cock into Zitao’s hole while he was still hard, the slightly uncoordinated slicking of his fist over Zitao’s wet cock, but it did the trick. Zitao came with a shout, toes curling into Sehun’s skin, shuddering as his orgasm sent jets of pearly spunk over his belly and chest.

They both collapsed onto the bed, sweating, messy, panting.

Zitao was the first to speak, moving Sehun off to the side and throwing his leg over his hip instead to keep him snuggled against him.

“Tell me you don’t have anywhere to be for a bit,” he murmured against Sehun’s collarbones, lapping at them.

Sehun just grunted, his brain cells still not recharged, but it didn’t seem to matter to Zitao, who seemed continent to murmur half a conversation against his skin. At least until he found other, more productive ways to occupy his mouth.

Sehun didn’t mind in the slightest.

\---

“You’re still leaving?” Sehun asked, proud that the question had come out solid and steady even as his throat was closing up, not certain why this notion was so displeasing to him. Perhaps he had gone weak. The feeling of Zitao not being at his side was not one Sehun wanted to contemplate.

Zitao shrugged, checking over his guns as he loaded them into bay of their shuttle. But seeing Sehun’s distress, he came over to swing his arm around his shoulder, pulling his head down so their foreheads were touching. Sehun rested in the pose for a moment, taking comfort in the tranquility that also came with having no one else around to witness it. “You have things to do, Commander,” Zitao reminded him with quiet confidence. “You need to report to the Council. Save the galaxy. Be the person Commander Shepard would be proud of.”

Sehun found himself nodding, knowing Zitao was right. “And you still have no love for the Alliance,” he pointed out, more for himself than for Zitao.

A smile turned up his lips. “You’re right, I don’t.”

Sehun sighed, a hard long one. “Will you at least keep in touch?”

Zitao pressed his mouth against Sehun’s in a butterfly of a kiss before grinning. “You’d have to hire someone to keep me from finding you.”

Sehun felt the ache in his chest ease slightly. “So what are you going to do while I’m out saving the galaxy?”

This time, it was Zitao’s turn to look smug. “Become the most well-known and well-paid mercenary in the whole universe, of course.”

Sehun couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course.”

\---

_Epilogue: Several Months Later_

Omega was just as grungy and still smelled just like Sehun remembered: oily metal with a faint whiff of wet Varren and rotten garbage. He didn’t pay it any mind, though, his mind focused on other things.

The council hadn’t really believed his report. He hadn’t expected they would – it was still a little fantastic, even to him, and he had been there, had seen the Collectors with his own eyes. Still, they had thanked him for his work and dismissed him, and while the action normally would have rankled, this time there was something else.

Rumours.

Rumours that Commander Shepard was alive.

The council had thought nothing of it, of course, so Sehun had taken it under his own authority to begin tracking her down. And if they didn't care, then really, he didn't have to give them updates, did he? Not that there was much to go on anyway. The trail was only whisps of things, conjecture and intercepted gossip mill, but several signs pointed to her having been on Omega recently. Perhaps she was even still here.

He could feel the thumping bass of Afterlife before he even reached for the doors, but before he could enter past the burly bouncer, a voice spoke up behind him – one that instantly sent his heart beating into triple time.

“Buy me a drink?”

Sehun whirled around instantly, and there he was in all his bronze glory. Zitao, looking fit and smiling at him with that catlike grin and Sehun couldn’t help it, his own mouth stretching into something so wide it hurt his cheeks.

“Shouldn’t you be buying _me_ a drink?” he asked. “With all your millions?”

But Zitao just came up to him and hugged him tight, and Sehun leaned into it, drinking down his affection like he had been starved for it for so long.

They found themselves sitting at a table on the lower level of the club, where the booming music was more muted, the talking easier.

“Captain Junmyeon had no reason to bring the Exodus to this particular sector without orders, and an Alliance ship of that size anywhere near Omega is just asking for a whole lot of trouble,” Sehun explained when Zitao asked where the rest of the ship was. He bit his lip, not sure if he was overstepping his bounds, but having Zitao beside him again just felt so right...

“In fact, I’m looking for maybe taking on another pair of hands,” he said casually. “Someone good in a firefight. Just in case things go sideways.”

Zitao raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes glinting with amusement and interest. “Oh?” He made a show of looking at his omni-tool. “You’re in luck. The best mercenary this side of the Milky Way is actually in between jobs right now.”

“I’ll pay the going rate,” Sehun replied, leaning forward. “Plus extra, I guess. If you’ll deign yourself to work with Alliance.”

Sehun could go blind with the brightness of Zitao’s expression.

“Well, throw in unlimited kisses and it’s a deal,” Zitao replied with a shrewd look. “Besides, I won’t be working for the military. I’ll be working for _you_.”

Sehun couldn’t help the laugh that echoed through the club. “Deal.” He shoved out his hand.

Then had to stop his breath from catching as Zitao took it, intertwining their fingers until their hands were locked upright on the table. “Deal,” he agreed quietly, his expression so fond it made Sehun’s heart turn.

Sehun bit his lip, unsure where to go next, but Zitao did.

“Come on,” he said, tugging him up, away from the table. “Let’s go find your Commander.”

Sehun’s hand tightened in his, his heart in his throat. He didn’t ask how Zitao knew; it didn’t matter at this point. He was here.

Sehun stood, smiling. “Yeah.”

It was enough.


End file.
